


Sweat

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 01:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris has some kinky thoughts. And, um. Sweat kink warning? I supposed this could be read as one-sided CrissColfer, but just take for granted it's more pre-slash because in my mind this totally just leads to hot sweaty sexing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweat

Darren sweats. Sometimes he sweats... a lot. 

Chris doesn't usually notice it on set. If the studio does get a little warm, the makeup people are there to swan around him and make sure not a single drop makes its way into frame. They're good at their jobs. 

But no make up people here. Nope, not a single one. 

Just the cast and what feels like five million fans and Chris and Darren and a stage and the sun beaming brightly down onto them. 

It's not a _thing_. It's not. Chris doesn't have a thing about sweat. He's not the character he plays; he's not pristine, sometimes he waits a couple hours after a workout to shower, sometimes he goes for a run and comes back with what his mother would have called a 'healthy glow.' It doesn't gross him out but he doesn't luxuriate in it, either. Sweat has it's place. At the gym, after sex. Sweat is fine. 

Maybe a little hot, in the right situation. 

This shouldn't be that kind of situation. 

They're at a table that's slightly too small to seat this many people. Chris can't stop stealing looks, not once he realizes that can see the neckline of Darren's thin gray shirt darkening, he can see the curls getting a little less controlled around the base of his neck, the way a droplet makes its way down the paler skin just under his armpit when he lifts his hands up high over his head to stretch. 

Chris can smell him. It smells - it smells clean, like soap and deodorant and underneath and a little tangy, a little musky. He tries not to stare, tries so hard, but he can see the dark wiry hair under Darren's arms and god, he probably smells so strong there. 

Darren sort of wriggles to loosen himself up and then he's laughing at something someone else has said, cracking a joke about how long they have to be here, and Chris pulls himself out of his reverie. 

For about five minutes. Then Darren leans around him to grab a new marker for the autographs he's signing. His arm presses solidly against Chris's. Chris has to cross his legs. When Darren pulls away there's dampness transferred between their skin, lingering and giving Chris goosebumps. 

Shit. This is a _thing_ now for him, isn't it?


End file.
